i want to tell you (but i don't know how)
by Xairathan
Summary: Ayanami encounters a feeling she has no name for. Asuka won't tell her what it is. ReiQ/Asuka post-3.33


Realization is a slow, dawning thing. For Ayanami, who's only ever seen the morning through the cracks of the deepest halls of NERV, it takes even longer. It starts as a nagging feeling in the back of her mind, quietly persisting day after day, but clamoring a little louder whenever she's near Asuka. She's used to this: Asuka's always been easier to open up to, for the same reason Asuka likes to talk to her. They both listen to each other, Asuka in her brusque but accepting manner, Ayanami with the patience born from years of quiet waiting. Sometimes they don't even talk at all, but just lie back on one of the tarps covering the flight deck and stare at the passing moon and stars.

One night, she asks Asuka about this emotion she can't put a name to. _What do you call this?_ she says, watching Asuka's face as intently as Asuka watches the sky overhead. Asuka's mouth twitches; her tell, and Ayanami knows that Asuka knows the answer, but won't tell her.

"It's not just something I can explain to you," Asuka sighs. "It's different. You'll have to figure it out for yourself." Ayanami nods, turning her head back towards the stars, but every so often she looks over, sneaking glances at Asuka, and she's not sure if Asuka doesn't care or if it's her blind spot at work, but there's a sadness on Asuka's face that's plain to see, even to Ayanami.

Suddenly, Ayanami doesn't want to know the answer to her question anymore.

The feeling stays, building with the passing weeks. Being near Asuka becomes an experience; the elation Ayanami feels from being near her starts getting swallowed by an unbearable ache during the silences, and three weeks after their conversation on the flight deck, Ayanami skips out on their after-dinner stargazing. She's gone the next day, and the day after that as well. On the fourth night, when the churning in her stomach has vanished and Ayanami's confident enough to sit in silence with Asuka again, she climbs up the ladder and into the night to find it as empty and quiet as NERV's deserted halls. Her stomach aches again, so strongly that she could cry, and cry she does, the rushing wind masking the sounds of her sobs and chilling the burning in her chest.

Asuka doesn't speak to her for several days after that. They catch glimpses of each other in the mess hall, but Asuka makes a point to sit as far away from her as possible. Mari flits between them both, trying to strike up casual conversation. Ayanami doesn't want to talk to her: she only wants to talk with Asuka, and from the way Mari speaks, it appears Asuka's ignoring her as well.

"Really!" Mari snaps at Ayanami one day, slamming her fork onto her emptied plate. "You two are being impossible. I never thought _I'd_ be the one saying this, so listen real close, okay? Talk to her. I don't care how you do it, just- hey." Mari cuts her rant short as Ayanami lowers her head to the table, hiding her face in her arms. "Ayanami- hey, now..."

Mari watches the clone of Yui cry for a long minute, at a loss for words. Finally, she leans over the table, resting a hand on Ayanami's shoulder. "You miss her?" The blue mop of hair in front of her nods up and down, and Mari releases a breath she didn't notice she'd been holding. "I'll tell you what. I'll get the Princess out on the flight deck tonight after dinner, and you can go talk to her then. Okay?"

"What if she doesn't go?" Ayanami sniffles. Mari pats her head, a quirky smile springing to her lips.

"Just trust me on this. I hate seeing the two of you all mopey. Think of what you're going to say to her, yeah?" Mari stands, taking both her tray and Ayanami's, and disappears into the stream of personnel leaving the cafeteria. Ayanami looks up in time to see her pink plugsuit slip out the door, her gaze lingering long enough to catch a flash of red somewhere near the back of the crowd.

Asuka stares back at her, an unreadable emotion behind her one good eye, and Ayanami recognizes for a second the mirror image of what she's been feeling since that one night under the stars. Asuka's eye narrows, and she takes a step forward, lingering between the door and Ayanami. Then she squares her shoulders, turns sharply on her heel, and marches away with a soldier's precision. Ayanami watches her leave before lowering her head again, this time pressing one arm to her midsection, trying to assuage the grief slipping through her ribs like a dagger.

Ayanami doesn't go to dinner. She stays in the small room that WILLE assigned her, picking at the pages of one of the books Asuka had brought for her during her first week on the _Wunder_. The hallways are empty when she slips out of her room, her hands shaking so badly she almost doesn't trust herself to make it up the ladder to the flight deck, but she does.

The air outside is colder than Ayanami remembers it. It's the same kind of cold that she'd become intimately familiar with at NERV, the kind she associates with being alone. Below her is warmth; the rest of WILLE must be finishing up dinner, and at any moment the hatch will open and Asuka will climb up from a glowing golden hole in the deck. It occurs to Ayanami that she hasn't rehearsed what she'll say to Asuka, if Asuka will even stay long enough to let her get a word in at all.

Metal creaks nearby. A line of yellow opens up against the dark grey and white of the flight deck. It's too late for practicing; Asuka slams the hatch to the side and clambers up, dropping neatly to the ground and looking around for Mari. She freezes when she sees Ayanami, but instead of retreating back into the ship, she closes the hatch and rests her back against it.

"Thought there had to be a good reason Four-eyes called me up here," Asuka scoffs. "She's not going to be here, is she. Well, whatever it is you need to tell me, spit it out already."

The wind whips between them, whispering in the absence of sound. The silence digs into their skin like ice crystals, biting with each passing second. Ayanami says nothing, listening to the roar of her pulse mix with the humming of the _Wunder's_ engines, her mind blank. Asuka shifts in place, and Ayanami expects her to leave. Instead, she asks, "At least tell me this. Why'd you ditch me and not say anything?"

Ayanami opens her mouth; closes it; opens it again. Words fail her, but she somehow manages to say, "I was afraid."

"Afraid? Afraid of what?"

"Of what I felt. Of the answer to what I asked you."

"And why would you be afraid of that?" Asuka slams her hand against the hatch, palm-first. The echo of flesh on steel rings across the flight deck, fading into the sound of Asuka's heavy breathing. "You're supposed to be finding out what your emotions are, not running away from them. Or did you change your mind about that, too?"

"I didn't," Ayanami whispers. "I just didn't want to be hurt."

"What made you think that?" snaps Asuka. "I told you, no one on this ship is going to hurt you."

"Not that. You were... sad, after I asked you that question. I didn't want to feel that."

"You can't just choose what you do or don't feel. You know that already." Asuka sighs, her breath forming a white mist that sweeps past her face and vanishes in the span of a heartbeat. "So, what's it gonna be, Ayanami?"

"Are we still friends?"

It's a strange question, but coming from Ayanami, it might as well be normal. Asuka shrugs, pushing off from the hatch and walking over to Ayanami. "Of course we are," she says, pulling Ayanami into a hug. "Next time, just talk to me sooner, okay? Friends are supposed to help each other, not keep things to themselves."

Ayanami nods, a smile emerging on her face as the twisting ache in her stomach disappears bit by bit, replaced by something different. It takes her a moment to place it as _warmth_ , the same warmth she only feels around Asuka, and finally everything clicks together and she understands. The nagging feeling, the pain of separation, everything makes sense, but she still doesn't have a name for it.

She does, however, have a gesture.

Ayanami wraps her arms around Asuka's back, pulling her closer, just as they've done so many times before. Asuka relaxes against her, the tension rushing out of her as the embrace lingers, until she feels something brush against her cheek. Asuka turns, thinking the wind is blowing Ayanami's hair into her face, and stops. Ayanami looks back at her, red eyes sparkling with a muted sort of fear that Asuka's all too familiar with, and putting two and two together she comes to the conclusion that Ayanami's just kissed her.

Well, that can't be right. But it is; Asuka's certain of it, and she _should_ be relieved that her feelings are reciprocated, but first she has to be sure. Wrapping one arm around Ayanami's waist, Asuka's free hand grabs one of Ayanami's and presses their palms together, waiting for her reaction. After a moment, Ayanami threads her fingers through Asuka's, and that's all the confirmation Asuka needs. She closes the distance between their lips, hesitating when she's close enough to feel Ayanami's breath splashing against her skin, warm and soft and inviting.

She half expects Ayanami to pull away, but of course, she doesn't. Swallowing the last of her doubts, Asuka leans in, pressing her lips to Ayanami's, feeling her heart rattle against her ribs and the gentle movement of Ayanami's mouth against hers. The kiss lasts for only a second, but to both of them it feels much longer; to Asuka, it's fourteen years' worth of fighting validated in an instant, and to Ayanami, it's countless days of existence chased away by the knowledge that she is not alone, not any longer.

"So what do you call this?" Ayanami asks as Asuka separates their hands and runs a thumb along the curve of her cheek.

"Love. It's love, Ayanami."

"Love..." Ayanami seems to mull this over, taking much longer with it than she did with the rest of the other emotions Asuka's explained to her. Asuka doesn't mind, for once having inherited Ayanami's patience, stroking her face and tucking stray hair behind her ears. "Then, I... love you, Asuka."

It shouldn't come as a surprise, but that sentence, those five words, throw Asuka off. "I- I love you too, Ayanami," she stammers, feeling like she should say more, but Ayanami's face lights up in the widest smile she's seen so far, and the butterflies in Asuka's stomach take flight all at once. "You're... We're okay now, then?"

"Better than okay," Ayanami replies, and Asuka returns her smile.

"Oh. Good." Her hand lingers near Ayanami's chin, and Ayanami reaches up and takes it, linking their hands together again. "So. Mari. I should probably thank her. And apologize for chasing her off the other day."

"Probably."

"You'll... you'll help me with that, right?"

"Of course." Ayanami pauses, her gaze briefly drifting past Asuka as she considers something. "We should probably not tell her what happened here."

"Definitely not. She'd tease us for weeks. She'd tease _me_ for the rest of my life. We'll just tell her we made up, that's all. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Great. Come on, let's get back downstairs. It's freezing up here."

"Do we have to?" asks Ayanami, and Asuka can see clearly what she wants.

"Fine," Asuka says, leading Ayanami over to one of the tarps, propped against a pyramid of supply crates. "Not too long though, alright? I've got a sync test tomorrow and I don't want to show up looking like an icicle."

Ayanami just nods, snuggling up to Asuka as they lie back against the thick canvas sheet. "I missed this," she whispers, resting her head against Asuka's shoulder.

"You won't have to again," Asuka promises, planting a soft kiss to Ayanami's forehead. "Not while I'm here."

"I know." Ayanami smiles up at Asuka, the stars reflected in her eyes, and this time when Asuka kisses her, Ayanami kisses back.


End file.
